Lord, hear our prayers –

afraid of the dark and sometimes brandishing a knife she begs the night lights for cigarettes and something cool to drink she primps as she scurries away, pulling out clumps of hair she will search for later to put up in a bun she’s having a rough night she’s crying for help but no one sees our demons but us and she chooses to speak to hers and when the homeless man on a bicycle stops to inquire all he can do is yell WHAT ARE YOU RUNNING FROM and the cops can’t take her to the hospital involuntarily and even if they did the ER would kick her in 3 or 4 hours not quite sunrise and she would have to contend with the darkness again begging night lights for salvation and a smoke and maybe a cup of water